It turned out he had been gripping the edge of the seat the whole time. I calculated—it had been about two minutes since we started driving—and by my own standards, there was no way I would keep my hand clenched on a seat for that long.

Perhaps I was being overly suspicious. Everyone has their own habits, and I shouldn't impose mine on others. It was perfectly normal for Li Youshan to have his own quirks.

Still, my mind kept turning: Could he have been reaching under the seat to grab something, like a small note, perhaps an agreed-upon method of contact set up previously with Chen Yujia?

Li Youshan’s phone was already tapped, and Chen Yujia certainly wouldn't leave him a phone number or any traceable contact information. So, what subtle method might he have used?

Placing an advertisement in the paper? Leaving a secret marker somewhere?

I shook my head; none of that was plausible. Chen Yujia hadn't expected me to uncover his scheme back then, so he wouldn't bother posting little ads for a man on the verge of death—that would only expose him further.

Suddenly, my phone rang. I looked down—it was Li Mingsheng, the security supervisor from the International West Garden. Before feigning my trip to America, I had deactivated my old number. Only Lord Jiang knew the new one, besides Li Mingsheng. I always felt that woman, Zhang Hemei, was not simple—not just because of the role she played alongside You Qiaolin and Chen Yujia, but because I always felt I couldn't see through her. I needed someone like Li Mingsheng as my eyes and ears, constantly watching Zhang Hemei for me.

Had he discovered some unusual behavior from Zhang Hemei?

This was too coincidental. I had intended to move on Chen Yujia, but Zhang Hemei suddenly popped up. It seemed this woman was willing to risk everything for Chen Yujia.

“Old brother, is the fish floating?”

“Fish” was the code word I had arranged with him, signifying Zhang Hemei. It didn't need to be complicated, but to motivate him, and perhaps satisfy his small appetite for the mysterious, I had casually invented this code.

On the other end, Li Mingsheng’s voice trembled slightly, suggesting agitation.

“Brother, the fish, the fish is really floating. It has been for several days now.”

“Old brother, don’t get worked up. Tell me slowly, what exactly is going on?”

“It’s like this: these last few days, the fish has been leaving early and coming back late—something she’s never done before. It’s extremely abnormal. I’ve wanted to tell you sooner, but I was afraid of being mistaken. Now it’s almost a week, and it’s still the same. I’m certain something is up with the fish.”

A week. That was slightly shorter than the time I had set for my feigned trip to America. I wondered what this woman was up to. Or perhaps she was just depressed and had gone to The Lan Gui Ren for drinks?

But depression usually led to drinking at night. Could she, like Li Youshan, have habits that differed from ordinary people?

“Old brother, your information is vital. I think we might actually make some money this time.”

Just hearing a codeword made Li Mingsheng exceedingly excited. He exclaimed, “I’ll keep a tighter watch over here. I hope our brothers can earn a good sum this time.”

Suddenly, I saw Li Youshan’s head tilt back slightly in the seat in front of me, and his left arm lifted. I quickly said to Li Mingsheng, “I have an emergency, I’ll call you back.” I immediately stood up from my seat, lunged forward, and threw myself beside Li Youshan. I saw his left hand had just left his mouth.

Everyone on the bus stared at me in shock, wondering where this lunatic had sprung from. But Li Youshan remained utterly calm. He offered me a faint smile and said, “I deserved this.”

A trickle of black blood suddenly oozed from the corner of his mouth, flowing slowly down his stubbled chin, resembling a repulsive, black-red worm.

I urgently shouted at the driver, “I’m a police officer! Drive to the nearest hospital immediately!”

There was a slight commotion in the bus, but it quickly settled. Normally, anyone trying to change the bus’s route would incite strong complaints from other passengers, but seeing a life that had been sitting right beside them vanish so suddenly was such a massive shock that it made them forget their grievances.

The bus driver knew exactly what to do in such a situation. He wrenched the steering wheel, and the once swaying vehicle took on the feel of a street racer.

Li Youshan had stopped breathing, but a faint pulse could still be felt. If he could be rushed to the hospital in time, perhaps his life could be saved. Even if he lived, he probably only had a few months, or less, but his final words undoubtedly proved Chen Yujia’s guilt.

Although he hadn’t explicitly named Chen Yujia, it was enough.

The bulky body of the bus weaved through the streets. Sweat beaded on the driver’s forehead, and the passengers were beside themselves with panic. The little siren who had been sitting next to Li Youshan looked utterly pale, struggling for half a minute before scrambling to change seats.

I calmly scanned the interior, looking at everyone, but based on their appearance, they all seemed to be the most ordinary citizens—no suspects in sight.

Could Li Youshan have been carrying the potent poison on his person?

That was a possibility, but carrying such a deadly poison presents certain difficulties for anyone. First, there is the psychological barrier: death looms constantly. I doubt the average person could grasp that level of mental pressure, but once you’ve done something like Li Youshan—killing for money—you would feel it, especially carrying a substance that could kill you instantly.

Furthermore, the poison Li Youshan took must have been an extremely rare, fast-acting type—the kind that seals a life upon contact with blood. Li Youshan wouldn’t have access to or the means to buy such a substance. Therefore, its source must be Chen Yujia, and Chen Yujia would absolutely never allow Li Youshan to carry the poison around, as it would significantly increase his own risk of exposure.

So, the poison must have been acquired from the bus itself!

I pulled out my badge and announced to everyone in the compartment, “This is a homicide. Everyone will need to stay here to give statements shortly.”

I then called Lord Jiang, telling him to immediately dispatch personnel to question everyone on board. Now that Li Youshan was dead, I had no reason to remain hidden.

Police sirens wailed as Lord Jiang arrived with his team, but Li Youshan was already completely dead before they got there.

Chen Yujia must have done this, but exactly how he managed it remained baffling to me.

Logically, two prerequisites had to be met for this to happen: First, Li Youshan must have received notification from Chen Yujia to board this specific bus; second, someone on the bus had to pass him the poison for him to take his own life.

Yet, up to this point, I had no clue how Li Youshan contacted Chen Yujia (or his proxy). I had followed him constantly, and all his communication devices were under surveillance—there was no sign of contact whatsoever. How had he done it?

The second point was even stranger. The time between boarding and taking the poison was so short, and I was right next to him, yet I noticed nothing. There was no one immediately in front of or behind him. To his right, by the window, sat that little siren who loved dressing up. Could she have passed him the poison?

I shook my head, because I was sitting right behind him. If she had passed anything, it couldn't have escaped my notice. I recalled that when we boarded, Li Youshan went first, and I followed, so I was directly behind him until he sat down. The 'little siren' couldn't have made a move in front of me. The only possibility was that as I moved toward the back rows, the 'little siren' quickly passed the poison over.

With that thought, I immediately ordered my colleagues to pull up the bus surveillance footage, but I was deeply disappointed. The video clearly showed that from the moment Li Youshan boarded until he ingested the poison, absolutely no one made contact with him.

It seemed he really did have the poison on him. But could Chen Yujia possibly be that foolish?

Despite the evidence before my eyes, I couldn't accept it. Suddenly, something flashed in my mind—Li Youshan's strange behavior on the bus earlier: his left shoulder hadn't moved, and I had caught a glimpse of his hand flashing under the seat from my vantage point below.

Realization dawned. I returned to the bus and went to the seat Li Youshan had occupied. I bent down and carefully examined the back of it. Sure enough, I found a hole about the size of a pea. Later forensic reports confirmed the residue found in the hole was consistent with a capsule casing.

The pieces were finally falling into place: After the deal with the driver for the murder-for-hire, Chen Yujia, to prevent the police from tracing him through the driver, had arranged the driver’s suicide path in advance. He had hidden a dose of highly potent poison, encased in a capsule, somewhere on the bus. Then, he instructed the driver to memorize the license plate and seat number, telling him to end his life if the police started to suspect him. The driver willingly went along, naturally, to secure that money. Since he was already a dead man walking, trading a few months of his life for the happiness of his wife and children for the rest of their lives was a trade he eagerly accepted.

Though I still don't know how the driver learned the police were closing in, Chen Yujia’s entire plan was flawlessly executed, leaving us no opening.

This lead—the driver—was completely severed, and I returned to work at the precinct. Lord Jiang informed me that the investigation into the mole was ongoing, but prospects weren't great, as it involved taking a few strands of my hair to the scene—a very easy and subtle action, making the investigation incredibly difficult.

When things finally quieted down, I remembered Li Mingsheng’s call and immediately dialed his number.

“Old brother, I encountered an unexpected event that day, so I had to hang up abruptly. Don't take it personally.”

“Brother, saying that makes us strangers. I know your work is sensitive; you must take good care of yourself.”

Though just a few words, they filled my heart with warmth. Was this what people called 'the will of the masses'?

“How has the little fish been moving these past few days?”

“Still the same: early out, late back. And I noticed her complexion isn't good, almost as if she's been dealt a blow.”

“Describe the blow.”

“That’s actually hard to describe. Heartbreak? The fish is past the age for that easily. Business failure? But I’ve never seen the fish running any enterprise. If I had to describe it, I’d say it was an all-around collapse. She has absolutely no spirit. I heard she nearly hit someone while turning a corner the day before yesterday.”

I was inwardly startled. A woman like Zhang Hemei—what kind of scene hadn't she witnessed? How could she suddenly turn like this? There must be a powerful reason behind it.

Whatever that reason was, I had to uncover it, because she was the person closest to Chen Yujia. The only reason I hadn't moved against her yet was that I always considered her the final piece on the board; moving too early would only work against me. I knew getting anything directly from her mouth would be impossible, so subtle action was better than overt action; it would prove more effective. And now, that effectiveness was showing: her abnormality must be inextricably linked to Chen Yujia!

But I didn't plan to confront her directly. Instead, I drove first to The Lan Gui Ren, intending to meet Zhao Shiya to try and gather information indirectly. If I ran into Zhang Hemei, it wouldn't matter; my current goal was only to observe her demeanor, not to take any concrete action.

The Lan Gui Ren was just as it always was, open during the day too. The dazzling lights were hypnotic, much like the owner's beautiful figure, and the low, soft music drifted in the air like scattered blossoms, occasionally piercing the ear and striking the eardrum.

As soon as I entered, I saw Zhao Shiya behind the bar. It had been a while, yet she looked a few years younger. Coupled with her elegant, youthful, pink-trimmed, playful top, she resembled a girl in her prime.

“Beautiful, if you keep looking like that, I’ll have to call you ‘Uncle’ soon,” I said, swirling the liquor in my glass with a smile.

Zhao Shiya shot me a look—so charming and cute it was disorienting, making it hard to tell if it was genuine or an act.

“Let’s get this straight first: are you here for your old flame, or is there something else?” Zhao Shiya spoke like a nagging housekeeper; if she crossed her arms over her chest, she’d look exactly like a modern-day Empress Dowager Cixi.

I chuckled. “Beauty, aren't you being a little too controlling? Are you perhaps jealous?”

It was just a joke, but I noticed Zhao Shiya’s expression shift strangely, and a sudden alarm went off in my mind. Could this tough cookie actually have feelings for me?

“What do you think?” Zhao Shiya murmured languidly, her voice blending with the music to give me a floating, dizzy sensation.

Such a stunning woman, such a mournful expression, combined with such an intoxicating voice—I couldn't imagine any man besides myself resisting it.

Of course, I wasn't entirely unmoved, but as soon as that feeling stirred, I violently stomped it flat. I was here to work a case, not flirt with beautiful women. And this woman in front of me was like a sister to Zhang Hemei; she might even be involved in that series of cases. I certainly didn't want a cop-and-criminal romance. No matter how emotional they look on TV, having it happen to you in real life is no joke. Even a tough guy like Zhang Jiewei cried for half an hour; if it were me, I’d probably be married with kids in the underworld by now.

Zhao Shiya kept watching me. I deliberately put on a roguish expression and smirked, “Why settle for the flower at home when the wild ones smell sweeter?”

“I didn’t know you were so bad. I guess helping you before was wasted effort,” Zhao Shiya retorted with feigned annoyance, though a hint of tenderness flickered in her eyes.

“Alright, alright. You’re punished with three drinks.” Saying that, I picked up my glass and downed it in one go. As I reached for the second, Zhao Shiya suddenly placed her hand over mine.

“Don’t drink so fast; it’ll hurt your body.”

The alcohol had just hit my system, and my blood was already running hot. Having her small, fair, delicate hand on mine made the heat surge uncontrollably. I instinctively turned and caught her hand. Zhao Shiya quickly tried to pull back, and I instantly realized my lapse in control and immediately let go.

The atmosphere turned awkward. I quickly said, “Where’s the restroom?”

The emergency pee break has always been the best way to escape awkwardness; I’ve used it successfully countless times, and tonight was no exception. When I returned to the table, Zhao Shiya had composed herself, and the cold water had fully sobered me up.

As soon as I sat down, Zhao Shiya’s bright lips parted: “I have two bottles of fine liquor in my room. Would you like to sample them?”

“Heh heh, I’d love to think about it, but my pockets are shallow. I’m afraid I don’t have the luck to enjoy them.”

Zhao Shiya pouted. “That means you don’t consider me a friend.”

“Since you put it that way, I have no choice but to respectfully accept.”

Zhao Shiya chuckled softly. “Why do you always talk so strangely, like you’re performing in a play?”

I deliberately stiffened my face and sighed, “Ah, life is like a play, and a play is like life. Isn’t that just how it is?”

Hee hee. Zhao Shiya smiled radiantly, showing a side of pure innocence that made my heart waver again. Suddenly, I thought: Could she be doing this on purpose?

But that suited my purpose perfectly. Since I was here to probe the truth, I might as well use this opportunity to dig deeper.

At that moment, Zhao Shiya stood up and looked at me. “Why are you still sitting there?”

I paused, and she added in a girlish tone, “You can drink them out here, but that costs money.”

Faced with such generous invitation from a beautiful woman, if I showed any lack of sense, I feared I’d be beaten with clubs when I left. So, I quickly stood up and followed her into the inner room.

This was her personal resting area, but it was furnished very warmly. I had been in here once before; this felt like revisiting an old haunt.

Zhao Shiya went to the wall cabinet for the liquor. I habitually looked around, East, West, North, South. Suddenly, my eyes felt as if they had been struck by lightning, and my vision momentarily dimmed completely.

In that moment, the shock in my heart reached its apex. I could never have imagined seeing that here!

I couldn't see anything else, couldn't think of anything else, except it!

I staggered to the small writing desk, staring at that familiar symbol. It was as if ten thousand thunderclaps detonated inside my mind. How could it be here?

By then, Zhao Shiya had retrieved the liquor and was preparing the glasses. Seeing me motionless, leaning over the desk, she asked, “Is there a beauty on the desk that has captured your gaze so deeply?”

I spun around abruptly, startling Zhao Shiya so much she backed away several steps. I realized my current appearance must be the same as when I interrogated Zhang Hemei in this room that other time.

“Wang Lei, what’s wrong?” Zhao Shiya asked cautiously.

I wanted to speak, but I feared that opening my mouth would let out the breath I was holding in my chest. I slowly closed my eyes, letting my emotions settle a bit, before opening them again. “Who wrote the things on your desk?”

Zhao Shiya froze, then burst out laughing—a laugh that struck me as inexplicable and utterly bizarre.

If I hadn't recognized the symbols on the paper on her desk as the exact same mysterious characters that had appeared in my email, I might have been fooled by her laughter. But I clearly remembered that Xiao Cuo once told me this was a form of writing, created by a scholar in the early days of the liberation.

I had already memorized the characters from the email; I could write them with my eyes closed. But when I carefully examined the symbols on the paper just now, they appeared even more fluid than those in the email.

What did this mean?

Did it mean Zhao Shiya was the one who sent the email? Or did it mean Zhao Shiya was the true owner of this script?

Suddenly, another spark of lightning flashed in my brain: Why would she voluntarily invite me into her room when such an important item was lying out on her desk?

My mood instantly stabilized. I walked closer and lowered my voice. “Don’t be afraid. I just got a little emotional because I thought of something else.”

Zhao Shiya was clearly startled; her face was a little pale, and she looked at me with slight tension. “Are you sure you’re alright now?”

I offered a smile and nodded.

Zhao Shiya patted her chest and frowned. “You really scared me.”

“I am truly sorry, but I still need you to explain one thing.”

“What thing? The one from before?”

I nodded, my expression very serious.

Zhao Shiya suddenly showed that same earlier smile again but managed to hold it back before it fully bloomed. It seemed I had genuinely frightened her moments ago.

“That? That’s from when I was little and used to visit my grandmother in the countryside. There was an old man with a white beard living next door. He was very fond of me, so he taught me some strange symbols. These are what’s written here. He told me it was a script, just like the Chinese characters in books, but much simpler. I was curious, so I wrote it down. I practice it when I have nothing else to do; it’s quite fun.”